


Mudblood

by livwrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6482371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livwrites/pseuds/livwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mudblood. That's what he called you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mudblood

Mudblood. That's what he snapped at you today. You know what prompted it: Potter and Black's bullying. But you're not willing to forgive him for it. It was the first thing out of his mouth when you defended him today, and that bothers you.  
  
Sev had always assured you that being Muggleborn meant nothing in his eyes; you were just as good as everyone else. You wonder how how he didn't choke on that lie as he spoke it.  
  
Mudblood.  
  
The word thunders accusations. Dirty blood. Unworthy. Inferior. You and everyone like you have been insulted for probably hundreds of years now, all because someone had decided that being born from Muggles and possessing magical powers meant you were a freak. Unwanted in the wizarding world, unwanted in the muggle world. For you, it means loneliness.  
  
It rings through the air, a foul cadence that repeats itself over and over, every time someone hurls it from their mouth to your ears. Whether the accuser is Rosier, Wilkes, or one of Sev's other friends - how could he even associate with those people and still pretend to be her friend? - the meaning is clear. Go away; you are unwanted.  
  
Mudblood.  
  
You used to wonder about Severus Snape. How he could be her friend and assure her that blood purity was stupid, a meaningless idea, while at the same time spending time with people who were raised among the idea that having "pure" blood - whatever that was supposed to mean - meant they were the cream of the crop, the best of everyone, and basically royalty.  
  
You long to prove them wrong, to lash out with your wand, sending them flying into the corridor walls, letting them know that while they think they're the best they're sorely mistaken. But that would be improper. You are a prefect, after all, and prefects should not be engaging in duels in the hallway.  
  
That doesn't mean you wouldn't defend yourself if necessary. The Slytherins haven't openly attacked you yet, though. They seem to be keeping their wands to themselves, only using their mouths to fling insults at you and everyone else with Muggle parents.  
  
You know one thing, though. You are no longer friends with Severus Snape. He was there with you from the start, told you that you were a witch and explained all about Hogwarts. He knew how excited you were for your first year. Now he wants to tell you that he thinks you don't belong here. That you should go back and live with your family, away from Hogwarts.  
  
No, Snape is not your friend anymore.  
  
"Lily?" You look out from where you're sitting, on your bed, to the dormitory door where Mary Macdonald is standing. "Snape's standing outside the common room door. He said he wants to talk to you."  
  
Again, you think coldly.  
  
"I don't want to talk to Snape," you say primly.  
  
"He said he's going to sleep out there all night if he has to," Mary tells you, and for a minute you forget why Severus Snape is waiting outside the common room door. You smile, for that's so typically Snape.  
  
Then you remember why he's outside and unwelcome, and you sigh, rise from your bed, and go out to greet him, resolved to make him choose.  


End file.
